East County’s Boulevard Road Race, which marks its 13th year on Saturday, is the country’s largest combined collegiate-professional bicycle race. Few nonriders have heard of it for one simple reason.

The organizers are UC San Diego students — and not one has a future in sales.

“This race comes down to who’s the smartest,” said Usama Hindiyeh, a bioengineering major and captain of the UCSD Cycling Club, “and who’s willing to hurt themselves.”

“It’s a grueling race,” agreed Eric Geier, race director and a second year student at UCSD Medical School. “Even when it’s sunny, it’s very cold.”

Even so, in the world of cycling this is what passes for good news — especially today. Like a homely member of the Kardashian clan, the sport is routinely shoved into the shadows by its sexier siblings (football, baseball and basketball). Lance Armstrong’s string of Tour de France victories gave it a boost, but now America’s most famous cyclist has been exposed as a doped-up fraud. If cycling is now a hot topic, that’s only due to confessions, lawsuits and drugs, not climbers and sprinters.

If anything can save this sport, it’s an event like Boulevard, in the southeastern corner of San Diego county. You can see how it could be advertised: Fit men and women. Amateurs and pros. Scenic backcountry roads. Competition at its most joyful.

“This race,” said cycling club member Daniel Zitter, “crushes you.”

His major is management science, not marketing.

Ride and shine

Saturday morning, hundreds of athletes will wheel up to the starting line at Boulevard’s Live Oak Springs Resort, elevation 3,200 feet. During each 22.2-mile circuit, riders will ascend more than 2,100 feet. Beginners race one lap; Hindiyeh, two; Zitter, three; and the pros, four. That last route equals 89 miles, climbing the equivalent of sea level to the top of Palomar Mountain — and then straight up another half mile.

“It’s one of the harder races on the circuit here in Southern California,” said Chris DiMarchi, 41, captain of the MRI Endurance team.

Despite its fearsome reputation, Boulevard last year drew about 700 competitors; Geier conservatively estimates this year’s field at “more than 500.”

That’s an unheard-of number for a student-run race, especially one with a modest $2,000 prize for the first-place pro. But Boulevard attracts an elite crowd. After his doping scandal, Floyd Landis began his riding rehabilitation here. Last year, the field included a pro Australian team and an amateur winner who landed a contract with the Jelly Belly team.

The race also benefits by being early on the calendar. “This really sets the tone for a lot of guys,” said DiMarchi, who lives and trains in Chino. “This is kind of the kickoff to the season. And for all the guys who put in a good offseason, it’s their time to shine.”

But only after more than 50 volunteers, led by race director Geier, mark the route with signs, hire referees, rent Porta Pottys. These time-consuming tasks can interfere with papers, exams and other facts of student life. Just ask Sean Burke, 38, who helps run the Red Trolley Classic, a sprinting race held in Mira Mesa the day after Boulevard.